Grady The Smoke in Our Eyes

1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 978-1-83501-116-4
Verlag: No Exit Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 400 Seiten

'Grady's style is loose, colorful, challenging and fun. I sometimes thought of Orwell's novel 1984, sometimes of the Dylan song 'Desolation Row'' Patrick Anderson, The Washington Post 'Grady is a master of intrigue' John Grisham Set in 1959, the 'year the music died', The Smoke in Our Eyes is a cinematic, clock-ticking saga set in a small Montana town. When a fatal car accident shatters ten-year-old Lucas's world, he finds himself confronting crime and vengeance, humour and heroism, all against the backdrop of growing up. Alongside the tightly written drama of Lucas and his family, Grady, author of the classic Condor series, evokes a heady mood and sense of place. From the Space Race and the first warnings of global climate change, to the brutal racism of segregation and the hope of a new generation to move us forward, The Smoke in Our Eyes is a fresh rending of rural noir that captures both an intimate story and the volatility of mid-century America.

James Grady has published more than a dozen novels and three times that many short stories, and worked in both feature films and television. His first novel, Six Days of the Condor, became the classic Robert Redford movie Three Days Of The Condor and the current Max Irons TV series Condor. Grady has been both US Senate aide and a national investigative reporter. He has received Italy's Raymond Chandler Medal, France's Grand Prix Du Roman Noir and Japan's Baka-Misu literature award, two Regardie Magazine short story awards, and been a Mystery Writers of America Edgar finalist. In 2008, Grady was named as one of the Telegraph's 50 crime writers to read before you die, and in 2015 the Washington Post compared his prose to George Orwell and Bob Dylan. He has two children and lives with his wife inside Washington, DC's beltway.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Grady, James

Leseproben

SUNRISE SERVICE Lucas Ross was ten years old that Easter Sunday morning when he found diamonds on the highway. ‘Wake up,’ whispered his mother as he snuggled in his bed. ‘It’s near dawn. Be quiet. Let your father sleep.’ Mom padded out of his dark bedroom. His bare feet swung around to press the gray carpet. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Shuffled into the hall. His parents’ bedroom door was closed. He eased into the dark bathroom. Shut the door. Snapped on the light because, well, you have to see where you’re aiming. Barefooted his Batman-pajamaed way through the living room to the yellow-walled kitchen. The coffee percolator vibrated on the gas stove burner’s ring of blue fire. Two breakfast places faced each other on the oval kitchen table. Glasses of fresh-squeezed orange juice. White bowls for cereal. Silver metal spoons. He sat with his back to the picture window framing their dark backyard. Puffy-robed teenager Laura shuffled upstairs from her basement bedroom with its pink walls and Don’t touch! rules. Settled in her chair across from Lucas. Dad mumbled ‘Morning’ as he appeared in the kitchen. ‘Don!’ said his wife. ‘I thought…’ ‘Couldn’t sleep.’ He stared at the percolator’s steam of bubbling coffee. ‘Do you want the radio on?’ said Mom. ‘For what?’ grumbled Dad. ‘I got the real news yesterday.’ But he spun a knob on that black box on the counter. A man’s voice without a body filled the family’s kitchen. ‘—has matched Russia rocketing into outer space with those science machines called “satellites,” so the Soviet Communists are not ahead of us.’ Yes! thought Lucas. ‘Meanwhile, there are reports of violence stemming from a federal judge ordering Virginia to stop segregation in its public schools.’ What’s ‘segregation’? thought Lucas. Does my school have it? Or schools in other towns in Montana that aren’t as special as Vernon? ‘The Civil Aeronautics Board says “pilot error” caused the Iowa plane crash on a snowy night last month that killed a teen music star and three other people.’ Lucas remembered hearing Laura and her best friend Claudia play that guy’s record over and over after the plane crash: ‘That’ll be the day, woo-hoo, that’ll be the day, woo-hoo…’ Will the radio talk about me when I die? wondered Lucas. ‘The Post Office confiscated a magazine that published excerpts from a novel called Naked Lunch. Sorry for dropping that on you folks here on Easter, but here on KRIP’s Sunday News Corral, we don’t make the news, we just wrangle it.’ Wrangling, thought Lucas. Like Grampa being a cowboy. ‘Wrangling it,’ said the DJ for this local AM station. ‘Some days… Sometimes it’s too damn hard.’ Laura froze, her hand holding the spoon of milk and cornflakes. Their parents, standing by the stove, frowned. ‘Martin County residents today are waking up to news of a tragic one-car accident on the highway south of town last night that killed one local teenage boy and left another one in the hospital. Authorities identified the two boys as Hal Hemmer and Earl Klise, both juniors in Vernon High School.’ ‘Oh God!’ Laura’s spoon clattered into her bowl. ‘You know those boys, don’t you, Laura?’ Mom wiped a dishrag over spilled milk. ‘You’re a sophomore, but everybody knows everybody in high school.’ Laura whispered: ‘I don’t know anything about that accident!’ Mom washed the dishrag in the kitchen sink. Dad got the just-delivered big city newspaper from the front porch. Laura gripped her orange juice glass like it was a carnival carousel pole. And Lucas knew she’d lied about not knowing anything about the accident. But he also knew Laura was not, nope, never had been a liar. ‘Better get ready,’ Mom told her. ‘You’ve got that God-damn church thing.’ Laura hurried downstairs. ‘You better get a move on, too,’ Mom told Lucas. She’d laid out his clothes the night before. Lucas wanted white socks to match his white shirt, but black ones waited in his dress shoes. Lucas frowned at the bathroom mirror’s reflection of his wild brown hair. The mirror reflected the white bathtub. What a cool idea! Lucas folded the bathmat onto the tub’s floor. Knelt both knees on the mat. Gripped the ‘C’ handle. Stuck his head under the faucet. Turned the handle. Cold waterfall tumbling over his skull: ten, nine, seven-five-onezero! Lucas pulled out of the torrent. The mirror showed victory: his hair lay flat on his head. He marched into the gray-walled living room. His mother’s anxious voice in the kitchen stopped Lucas mid-step: ‘Don’t worry, Don. It was just a wedding. Just talk.’ ‘At the reception,’ said Dad. ‘Watching him work it. Alec watching him, too, right beside me but almost like I wasn’t there. Or it didn’t matter if I was there.’ ‘It was his daughter’s wedding, Don. That’s all. Alec had a lot on his mind. Probably a little drunk, too. I would have been. That wasn’t like he ever wanted.’ Dad said: ‘Out of nowhere, Alec says: “I think he’ll fit in just fine.” And he’s looking at that college boy who just married his daughter. Fran Marshall is now Mrs Ben Owens. “Fit in just fine.” All I could do was stand there. Say nothing.’ ‘You don’t know that it means anything.’ Cold cupped Lucas’s groin. He looked down. A dark half-moon of tub splash covered the crotch of his tan khakis. Oh God, it looks like I peed my pants! ‘Lucas,’ called his mother in the kitchen. ‘Come here.’ Stand sideways in the kitchen doorway and— ‘You look fine, dear,’ said Mom. ‘Laura! Irwin will be here any minute!’ Dad shuffled out of the kitchen. ‘Last thing I need now is Irwin.’ ‘I better put something else on.’ Mom fingered her pink terrycloth smock as she hurried behind her husband toward their bedroom. The hands on the clock above the kitchen sink read 6:41: “You have to get up at six because Irwin will pick you up at a quarter to seven.” Four minutes. Mom and Dad in their bedroom. Laura downstairs. His crotch smeared dark, wet by HONEST IT’S NOT PEE! Lucas jammed a kitchen chair against the sink. Three minutes! He pulled the toaster next to the sink. Climbed on the wobbly chair. Put one shoe in the sink. Spun the toaster knob to DARK. Pushed the lever down. Lowered his soaked crotch close to the two slots of glowing toaster coils. BAM! BAM! BAM! Knocking on the front door! ‘Lucas!’ called his mother. ‘Let Irwin in!’ Aaah! Lucas fought to keep his balance. Still dark all over my crotch and OW! The hot toaster! Get out of the sink! Off the chair! Run to the— NO! Get the chair back where it belongs! BAM! BAM! BAM! Hunch over. Keep one hand in front of your… Open the front door. Red-haired, pudgy teenager Irwin stood on the front porch. His smile turned to a sneer when he saw it was just Laura’s little brother. ‘Didn’t you hear me?’ said Irwin as he pushed past Lucas into the house. ‘Aren’t you guys ready? Hi, Mrs Ross.’ ‘Did you hear what happened?’ said Mom as she entered the living room. ‘The car wreck and Earl and Hal? Do you know which one is alive?’ ‘No,’ said Mom. ‘It’s awful. Sure glad it wasn’t you or Laura.’ ‘That wouldn’t happen to kids like us,’ said Irwin. ‘Bet they were drinking. They have those beer parties at the river.’ ‘Don’t tell me what I don’t wanna know,’ said Mom. ‘Bet it was that car they rebuilt. Mrs Sweeny’s ’57 Chevy. The one that somebody sugared the gas tank. Remember they bought it off the junk heap?’ POP! The toaster. Mom frowned toward her kitchen. Laura hurried up the back stairs, through the kitchen, into the living room. ‘Go,’ she said. ‘Let’s just go.’ ‘You coming, Mrs Ross?’ asked Irwin. ‘See your kids do Sunrise Service?’ ‘I went to that wedding,’ said Mom. ‘Only so much church a body can take.’ Lucas kept his back toward them as he edged toward the front door. Irwin stood where he was. Swayed like a cobra. ‘What’s the guy Fran married like? Kind of… sudden, and on the Saturday before Easter.’ ‘You get married when you get married,’ said Mom. ‘I didn’t really talk to him. We got invited because Don manages the trucking firm.’ ‘We’re going now,’ said Laura as she hurried Lucas and Irwin outside. Snow had been gone for a week that March day. Hills of gray dirt and last year’s yellowed weeds rose from the rumpled prairie three blocks away. Dawn pinked Montana’s big sky above the flatland valley cradling Lucas’s...